Game Night: Round One
by Katherine RaineKeth
Summary: Comes after "The Art of Recovery". My OT3 Sylar/Elle/Peter threesome. Sylar and Peter play a little game with Elle. How does Elle tell who is who when she can't see? (Plot, what plot?) Sexual content.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Heroes or its characters.

 **Warning:** Sexual content. Light bondage, threesome, accidental facial, PWP, a little fluff? You have been warned. Please do not proceed reading if you aren't comfortable with these themes.

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 **Game Night: Round One**

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Elle opens her eyes groggily. It is dark, and she can't see anything.

 _Why is it so dark?_ She moves to sit up, and freezes in shock.

"What the fuck?" She hisses.

Elle realizes in alarm that it _isn't_ dark. She is _blindfolded,_ and tied up. Where the hell is she? The last thing she remembers is sleeping in her own bed, but she can feel the hard surface under her, definitely not her bed. She shifts. Gosh, she is not wearing any clothes.

Elle takes a deep breath to steady herself, then generates a surge of electricity from both of her hands, attempting to burn off her restraints.

She tugs at her bonds in irritation. Why isn't it working?

Then Elle hears the door open. She tilts her head and listens, her heart pounding loudly in her ears almost covers the sound of feet shuffling and the door closing.

XXX

That is the first thing Peter sees when he enters Sylar's living room.

There is Elle, blindfolded and naked on the dining table. Her arms and legs are spread apart, each limb tied to a table leg with rubber straps. The soft yellow light in the apartment glimmers on her skin, and she looks like a goddess.

A helpless goddess.

Peter has never equated Elle Bishop with helplessness, but the thought is not unwelcoming.

His cock twitches and he blows out a breath.

Elle turns her head towards him sharply, "Who are you?"

"Relax, it's me."

"Peter?" Elle whispers, the tension in her body lessens, "What's going on? Untie me."

Peter smiles at the way Elle relaxes upon hearing his voice. "But I sort of don't want to," he says truthfully, and someone else laughs.

Elle frowns for a moment, and then realization dawns on her and her anxiety dissipates. She lets out a breath of relief, "Gabriel, you scared the hell out of me!" She pouts, "If you wanted to tie me up, you could have just asked."

Sylar curls his lips in amusement, "And what would be the fun in that?"

He drums his fingers along Elle's shoulders and brushes her jaw with his thumb, he smiles when Elle leans into his touch like a cat, "We're going to play a game."

Elle's face lights up in excitement, "But can I tie _you_ up next time?"

Sylar snorts, "What do you figure?"

"Come on, Gabriel," Elle whines, then she gives a little smirk that says that she has a little conspiracy going on, "Unless you're afraid that Peter and I will overpower you in an ambush?"

Sylar narrows his eyes at Peter, who arches an eyebrow at him in challenge, "You can try, but if you fail both of you are in big trouble. Now quit talking."

Elle licks her lips and keeps quiet. She can already feel arousal building in her belly.

"We are going to touch you, and you have to guess which one of us is touching you. You get five chances. If you get it wrong five times before the game is over…you don't get to come till morning. Do you understand?"

Peter's mouth twitches, suppressing a laugh.

What? That's hardly fair. She is blindfolded! Elle protests, "But—"

"Are you ready, Elle?" Sylar asks in his no-negotiation tone.

Of course she is ready. She wants them to touch her, so badly. Her belly tightens with anticipation and she croaks, "I'm ready."

Immediately she hears shuffling, and then a hand grabs her face and soft lips are pressed against hers. She moans lowly and opens her mouth to welcome his tongue. He tastes like mint flavored gum, sweet and fresh and cool _…_ and then as sudden as the kiss started, he withdraws from her and ends the kiss, leaving her wanting more.

Elle licks her lips in longing and breathes, "Peter." His aftershave gives him away.

"See? That's not very hard, is it?" Sylar says softly.

And then Elle feels hot lips on her ear. She sighs with pleasure when she feels teeth gently nibbling her earlobe; and then the lips trace her ear down to her neck, licking and tasting her skin. Just as she cranes her neck to give her lover better access, the contact is gone.

Elle blinks against her blindfold, unsure who that was. _Peter already got a turn…_ "…Gabriel?"

"Wrong. That's one, Elle," Peter grins.

Elle pouts.

Next a hand caresses her neck. The hand strokes her jaw, brushes across her lips and travels down to her chest. The hand is warm… _very_ warm, almost hot, making her skin tingle. It trails along the curve of her breast and skims past her nipple, making it peak with arousal. Elle moans and feels the hand brush past her belly, finally resting on her pussy.

"Who's touching you, Elle?" Sylar asks.

Elle's mouth feels dry as she speaks, "Gabriel." Normal people don't have hands _that_ hot. That has to be his microwave power.

Sylar removes his hand from her and chuckles, "Good girl," and Elle beams.

Next, a hand cups her breast, and she feels soft lips on her chest, sucking and marking her skin. Then those lips move down to her breast, kissing her flesh around the nipple. Elle whimpers as her neglected nipple tightens and begs for attention. When she finally feels hot tongue swirling around her sensitive bud, she moans out loud in pleasure and arches her back, offering more of herself.

Then there is no more contact to her body, and she whines in protest. Sylar laughs, "Who was touching you, Elle?"

Elle bites the inside of her cheek. How is she supposed to know? She wasn't paying attention. "Peter?"

"That's right," Peter murmurs, his eyes rake over her as her skin starts to turn flushed.

 _Yes!_ Elle gives him a winning smile, pleased with herself. Of course she is right. She is always right.

Suddenly someone captures her mouth in a forceful kiss, his hand fondling her breast and rolling her pebbled nipple. She moans into his mouth, her pussy growing wetter. Her hands ache to touch him and pull futilely at the straps, reminding her how much she is at their mercy.

Elle pants, "Gabriel."

"Mm-hmm," Sylar hums approvingly.

She hears feet shuffling again. They're moving. Then someone is kissing her ankle. He plants kisses up her leg, kissing his way up on the inside of her thigh. Elle tenses with anticipation, but he stops right before her throbbing sex.

Elle groans, there is no way that she can tell who that was. "Can we stop the game? Can you just fuck me now?"

Sylar laughs, "No. Do you want to give up, Elle? That means you lose."

Elle bites her lip and takes a wild guess, "Peter."

"You really can't tell us apart, can you?" Peter teases, "That is two."

Elle can't bring herself to care about the game anymore, she only wants them to keep touching her. She gasps when someone grips her thighs suddenly and gives her folds a long lick. He flicks his hot tongue up and down her pussy, deliberately avoiding her sensitive clit. Elle whimpers and tries to arch up and press herself closer, but he only frees one hand to hold her down and continues to torture her.

"Please…" Elle begs, writhing under his touch.

Then all contacts stop.

"Take your guess, Elle," Peter encourages.

"…I don't know…"

"Hmm, I consider that wrong. That's three, Elle," Sylar chuckles.

What? Before Elle can protest, two long fingers are inserted in her pussy. She gasps out sweetly as the fingers start pumping in and out of her. "Oh…oh God…" _More, more, more…_

"It's just us," Sylar says wryly.

The fingers in her are moving faster now, a thumb starts to brush across her clit back and forth and Elle throws her head back, moaning in ecstasy as pleasure ripples through her, "Please…I can't…" She clutches the table and whimpers. She is so wet that the fingers are fucking her with ease.

Then the fingers stop.

Elle gasps and pleads, "Don't stop."

"Ready to take your guess? Whose fingers are in your pussy?" Sylar asks, his voice husky and thick with desire.

"G-gabriel." She breathes.

"Are you sure?" Peter asks, and the fingers start pumping again, but slow…way too slow.

Elle whimpers, her thighs quivering with need, "Ah…I…." _Goddamn it. She has no idea._ "…Peter?"

"Tsk tsk. That still counts as four," Sylar says unsympathetically.

Elle groans when Peter withdraws his fingers, her pussy convulses in protest.

Then she hears the sound of a zipper unzipping, and she lets out a sharp intake of breath in excitement. She can't tell who it is, but she wants them. She wants them both.

All at once her bonds loosen themselves, then a hand helps her up and guides her to bend over a short shelf.

Someone—Peter, she can tell by the scent of his aftershave—cups her cheek and kisses her tenderly on the mouth, "Are you having fun so far?"

Elle nods and smiles broadly, her breathing labored, "How about you, Petey?"

The corners of Peter's eyes crinkle, "What do you think?" Then he moves away from her.

Sylar smacks her bottom lightly and Elle jumps a little. He smiles, that's why he likes to blindfold her. Everything startles her easily. "One last guess then the game is over."

Without warning someone grabs her hips and enters her. Elle bites down hard on her bottom lip; her arms almost give out as the cock slides all the way in, stretching and filling her to the fullest. It hits the deepest spot and she mewls, her whole body feels like jelly. _It feels too good._

Peter grimaces and clenches his jaw, trying not to give himself away. _So tight_. "Who is inside you, Elle?" He manages to keep his voice light.

He starts moving, pulling himself all the way out and driving all the way back in slowly.

Elle moans, "I don't know…faster…" She pushes her ass back.

Sylar smacks her ass and growls, "Don't move." Elle whimpers and jerks her hips involuntarily, causing Peter to grit his teeth and give Sylar a reproachful look.

Sylar grins and drops his voice low, knowing its effects on Elle, "Elle, who is inside you? Don't you want to get this game over with so that we can both fuck you senseless?"

 _Of course she does. She wants it so badly._ Elle grips the shelf tightly and pants shallow breaths as Peter keeps thrusting into her, slow and deep. Peter blows out a breath silently, sweat breaks out across his skin, "Elle, don't think too much. Feel."

Elle scrunches her face. _Feel what?_ All she knows is that it feels _good._ _  
_

"Careful. If you get it wrong…" Sylar reminds her.

 _Then I don't come until morning, and I will go insane._ Elle groans. Both of their voices are from behind her. She bites her lip, too afraid to guess.

Maybe if she begs, they will take pity on her? "Please…I can't…"

"You can," Peter coaxes. Aw, Elle begging is such a fine sight, it is beyond him how Sylar could not soften at her plea. Peter lowers his head to kiss her back, all the while burying himself deep inside her. She lets out a small shaky squeal—how cute—and Peter gives her a small zap, where his lips touch her smooth back.

Elle sucks in some air through her teeth, "Peter, it's Peter." It's a thing that Peter likes to do to get even with her—zapping her lightly while kissing her; something that stemmed from way back, when he was held captive in the company cell.

Sylar shakes his head in rueful amusement, "Peter is way too easy on you." He walks in front of Elle and tilts her chin up.

"But I still didn't lose, right?" Elle asks urgently, unable to stop herself from wiggling her hips to urge Peter to move.

"Right, the game is over," Sylar chortles when Elle visibly relaxes in relief. He brushes his thumb across her lower lip, "Open up."

Elle obediently takes his member into her mouth. Sylar exhales heavily when Elle swirls her tongue around his length, her mouth hot and silky against his sensitive flesh.

That's when Peter picks up his speed and pounds harder into her slick pussy, his hip movements fast and strong, each thrust makes her see stars behind her blindfold. Elle moans against Sylar's cock, sending vibrations up his length. Sylar groans. Watching Elle helplessly suck him off is driving him mad. _His_ Elle. _His_ Elle. Why he likes to tie her up; why he likes to dominate her in bed, because _everything_ proves that she belongs to _him._ He places his fingers through her hair, gradually mirroring Peter's movements and pumping her delicious mouth.

Elle rubs the tip of Sylar's cock against the roof of her mouth, relishing every time he hisses or shudders. Her moans—growing louder and more erratic as Peter rams harder into her—combine with the slapping sound of flesh against flesh make her feel hot and wanted and naughty. She is being claimed by her two lovers, completely claimed. The knowledge sends a shiver through her and her pussy spasms around Peter. "God, Elle…" Peter squeezes his eyes shut and plunges deeper into her, his thrusts rough and ungentle. As if on cue, Sylar pumps deeper into her mouth as well, and Elle tries her best to close her throat around his cock.

Peter reaches under Elle and brushes against her clit and is pleased to hear a muffled scream. Elle bucks against him, making his cock go deeper. He sucks in a breath and teases her clit relentlessly, all the while ruthlessly pounding into her. Elle whimpers, babbling incoherent words muffled by Sylar's cock.

And then she comes. Sylar barely manages to pull out before she bites him as she comes undone. "God! Peter…" Elle screams, her whole body spasms as her orgasm hits her, her pussy clenching down on Peter, and he comes and empties himself inside her with a low groan.

Elle draws in long breaths and reaches for Sylar's hard cock, vaguely aware that he has not come yet _._ She strokes its length, ready to take it back into her mouth when Sylar gasps—and sudden spurts of warm liquid shoot all over her face.

She lets out a small "Oh!" in surprise.

Goddamned Peter stifles a laugh from behind her.

Sylar can't help but let out a soft laugh as well when he removes Elle's blindfold, and she stares up at him with his semen on her face, all wide-eyed and…almost innocent. She looks _tantalizing._ Sylar quickly grabs the tissue box telekinetically and cleans her face. He smiles a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry, it was an accident…" he murmurs and kisses her lips, and then adds, "I'll probably do it on purpose next time though."

A ripple of laughter breaks through Peter, and Elle narrows her eyes and squeezes her pelvic muscles, making Peter hiss and pull out of her.

Elle folds her arms in front of her with a mock pout on her face, "So Mr. Gray, you've tied me up, blindfolded me, tortured me and given me a facial. Are you through with me yet?"

There is a glint in Sylar's eyes when he responds, "Never."

Elle's lips curl into a smirk. She whirls around and whispers in Peter's ear, "Someday, somehow, we're gonna ambush him."

-End-

 **Author's note:** I strongly feel that Peter acts as a walking tranquilizer for these two. He's good for them.


End file.
